


Protectors of the Earth

by ChronicBookworm



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Adapting to a New World, Canon-Typical Violence, Crossover, Dimension Travel, F/M, Getting Together, infinity war fix-it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:22:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22337752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChronicBookworm/pseuds/ChronicBookworm
Summary: Their new world had aliens. This seemed to take everyone else by as much surprise as it did Hermione, Ron and Harry, butreally. Aliens.It seemed odd, Hermione thought, that there was a world-ending threat, and they hadn’t been involved in the lead-up, they hadn’t done anything to help, they’d been bystanders, watching the TV as a man dressed in an American flag threw a Frisbee at the aliens – which wouldn’t be Hermione’s first choice of weapon against aliens, but it seemed to be working for him.
Relationships: Hermione Granger & Harry Potter & Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger/Steve Rogers
Comments: 22
Kudos: 442
Collections: Clever Crossovers & Fantastic Fusions, X-Ship - The Crossover Relationship Exchange 2019





	Protectors of the Earth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ANGSWIN](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ANGSWIN/gifts).



The rest of the world moved on. They picked up the pieces, started rebuilding, getting married, having kids. They sorted out their lives. Even the Weasleys, most of them, managed to salvage something and rebuild a life out of it. Harry, Ron, and Hermione tried. They really did. And most of the time, it worked on the principle of “fake it until you make it”, although Hermione wasn’t sure they would ever “make it”. Ron went to help George with the shop, and found he was actually good at managing a business. Harry started Auror training. And Hermione, well, there was a world to rebuild. There were creatures that were treated horribly in wizarding society, there were Muggleborns who wanted to get back what they had lost, there were children without parents and parents without children, there were students who’d missed out on a year of schooling, and students who had been terrorised in the one place that had been promised would be a haven. She was torn in all directions at once, and there was far too little of her to go around.

They lived together. They’d tried to live on their own, and Ron, who was the only one among them who still had his family, had gone back to live at the Burrow, but well. More often than not, they ended up in each other’s flats anyway. After a while, it seemed pointless to deny that they’d become co-dependent on each other. Perhaps it was unhealthy, but so many things were. They didn’t have the time or the energy to work on better coping mechanisms.

*

The Death Eaters weren’t gone. They’d gone underground, most of them, and well, there were only so many times someone could claim “Imperius” before people stopped believing.

For fairly obvious reasons, the trio were targets for surviving Death Eaters. They successfully evaded six attacks, leading to the capture of some fifteen Death Eaters, before Mulciber got them with an unknown spell, almost ten years to the day of the Battle of Hogwarts.

*

All three of them survived. That was what mattered.

*

It looked like Britain. The road signs were in a familiar style, although nowhere she had been before. They’d always stayed more in the South, and Hogwarts was somewhere in Scotland, but it had always seemed like its own little world, disconnected from the rest of Britain, except Hogsmeade. Apparently, they were just outside Durham, Hermione realised as she scrutinised the sign. They all saw the name of the road at the same time, and it took their breath away. She reached out to take Ron and Harry’s hands, only to find that were halfway to grabbing hers. They’d somehow been transported to a place called Neville’s Cross.

*

There was no magic in their new world, as far as they could tell. Theirs still worked, but there was no Diagon Alley, no Hogwarts, none of their classmates existed. Some of their families did, but from what they could tell, nobody with wizarding blood existed. Harry, for instance, had looked up his relatives, and had found Marge and Vernon Dursley, but there was no Petunia or Lily Evans, as far as they could tell, and Vernon had married another woman – Dudley Dursley in this world had darker hair and a more pointed nose than he had in their world. That was also how Hermione found out that her dad had at least one wizard ancestor, somewhere in the family tree, but her mum apparently didn’t. Not that it mattered – even if both her parents had existed in the new world, she wasn’t about to approach them. They were part of her past, not her future.

Her mum seemed happy.

*

The world didn’t have magic, but its science was well advanced from what Hermione knew of their previous world – or maybe it wasn’t. Maybe their own world had also progressed at the same pace as this one. But she’d never heard of Captain America before (even though he was a footnote in the British historical records – he was an important enough footnote to crop up in more than one history book, and Hermione tended to remember those kinds of footnotes), or of the Starks, who seemed like they’d be important, and a family she’d have heard about. She did try to keep up with the Muggle news as well, after all. She doubted very much a flying robotic suit existed or was in the cards in their world, which was a shame. Mr Weasley would have loved it.

*

The good thing about a world without magic, Hermione thought, was that there were far fewer protections put in place to safeguard against magic. One they’d determined that they were probably going to be in this new world some time, they set about making their life in it. Even in the Muggle world, back home, there had been magical protections against copying the money, as part of the agreement between the Ministry of Magic and the Muggle government. They couldn’t conjure money – that would break Gamp’s elemental laws of transfiguration, but transfiguring blank paper into paper with marks on it, well, that was another matter entirely.

Hermione’s trusty moleskin pouch had, ever since that year they’d spent on the run, held a small fortune in both Muggle and magical money. Even so, they lived in the tent the first few weeks while they oriented themselves. It seemed safer that way.

They left Durham and Neville’s Cross, reluctantly. But most of the knowledge they needed to get back was not there, even if Durham University was one of the best in Britain – they needed the British Library for that. Luckily, it didn’t take much to fake an identity that would let them get library cards, and from there, they constructed a crash course in dimensional physics. Or, Hermione constructed it, and tried to get Harry and Ron to follow along, before they agreed that it would be quicker if she just did the research, and Harry and Ron brought her first books, then journals, then print-outs of articles. They didn’t leave her side apart from when she went to the loo, and that was just because Hermione had forbidden them from transfiguring themselves into women for the sole purpose of following her in.

“I do understand and appreciate your paranoia,” she told them, “but I have to draw the line somewhere.”

They understood, or at least told her they did.

But all their reading told them was that the scientists of this world weren’t even sure there _were_ alternate realities. Hermione thought even Ron and Harry were probably a step ahead of them there. She just didn’t know how to travel between them.

*

They faked family histories and school records for themselves, including records from the foster system, to explain the lack of other relatives. Hermione used her faked A-level results to go to university, specifically to study physics, and then onto a PhD. Alternate universes were still very much a hypothetical, far-out idea, but well, people had believed in and studied weirder, especially physicists. Cosmology seemed the most relevant branch of physics (although the concept of alternate universes was still so theoretical in research, there was no knowing what would turn out to be relevant or not), so that’s what she decided to focus on for her PhD.

Ron opened up a shop. He had experience running a business, from helping George with Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes, and well, he’d enjoyed it. His shop sold a variety of knick-knacks, most stuff he’d bought broken, done a quick _reparo_ on, and then sold on. He also repaired things people brought in (not electronics), and the shop just about broke even.

She wondered if Harry wanted to be a policeman, like he’d been an Auror. It would involve more thorough background vetting that what she’d been preparing them for: she might even have to go so far as to plant memories in some of their alleged foster parents, teachers and school friends, so Harry could use them as references for the vetting process. Harry expressed some doubts about the ethics of the whole situation, but she knew he would make an excellent police officer, and the fact that he had been transported to another world via a magical accident was nothing he could help, and shouldn’t hold him back from achieving his dreams. Hermione had once Obliviated her own parents, she was willing to do far more to people she cared far less about for the sake of Harry and Ron.

“Nah, don’t worry about it,” Harry said, after having considered it for a few days. “I’ve had enough chasing down bad guys. My saving people thing is over. This is a new world, and a new me. How do you fancy a business partner, Ron?”

Ron grinned at him.

“That’d be brilliant.”

*

Their new world had aliens. This seemed to take everyone else by as much surprise as it did Hermione, Ron and Harry, but _really_. _Aliens_. They were all the way in the US, because so many of the world-shaking global events seemed to be centred on New York, specifically, but it was still… unsettling. That there were aliens, and they were hostile. There was a band of plucky heroes to stand up against them, because there always was. Harry wanted to join them, because of course he did. He was Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, the Boy Who Sacrificed Himself to Save the World, the Boy Who Vanquished Voldemort. How could he not want to help? But apparating to New York was impossible – transatlantic apparition to a place they’d never been? There was no way they wouldn’t splinch themselves. And getting there non-magically would take at least eight hours, even if they hadn’t cancelled all flights to and from New York due to obvious reasons. There just seemed to be no way to get there in time. Hermione, Harry and Ron had to sit this one out.

It seemed odd, Hermione thought, that there was a world-ending threat, and they hadn’t been involved in the lead-up, they hadn’t done anything to help, they’d been bystanders, Harry and Ron keeping the telly on in back room of the shop, watching a man dressed in an American flag throw a Frisbee at the aliens – which wouldn’t be Hermione’s first choice of weapon against aliens, but it seemed to be working for him. Things got sorted, without them. There were others who stepped up, saved the world, and all they could do was donate money for the rebuilding efforts. It should have been a relief.

*

When Hermione had completed her PhD and was offered a post-doc in Durham with one of the leading researchers in the field of cosmology at the entirely new physics facilities, they argued for a while about whether she should take it, or whether they should stay down south. They all took it for granted that they’d all end up in the same place.

Ron, especially, still held out a vague hope of going back to their old dimension, to find his way back to his family – the Weasleys had already lost one son, and she knew the fact that they probably thought him dead too tore him up. Harry’s interest in finding a way back had cooled, but Ron was still faithfully going through new publications in Web of Science (having spent a lot of time and effort learning how to use search terms and read abstracts to determine whether he should pass the entire article on to Hermione, or if it was irrelevant) and science fiction books, with the dimensional travel parts highlighted so she wouldn’t have to read the entire thing. She had never seen Ron devote so much time and effort to a research project before, and thought he’d come a long way from the 13-year-old who’d forgotten all about Buckbeak’s legal research. Since he wasn’t giving up, she figured she had no right to, either. Hermione and Harry had no major connections in either dimension, but for Ron, his family was everything.

She accepted the offer, with the condition that she could devote some of her time to studying her own theories, no matter how outlandish.

Harry and Ron moved their shop to a location at the top of Saddler Street opposite the Salvation Army and next to the little street leading up to Palace Green, and they set about trying to find somewhere to live. There was, really, one obvious place. They found a three-bedroom house for sale in Neville’s Cross and bought it on the spot.

It was seven years since they had arrived at pretty much this spot on that fateful day. Hermione wasn’t superstitious, but it seemed like coming full circle. As far as Hermione was aware, nobody in the world had come close to figuring out dimensional travel. She was finally in a position where she could do her own research into it.

*

As she was just embarking on her post-doc, a bland man in a bland suit came to visit Hermione at her work. He stood out like a sore thumb in the physics department – academics, as a rule, didn’t wear suits unless forced to. She was in her first year of her postdoc, trying to establish her own independent line of research, and still have time over for what she called her extracurricular activities – her research into other dimensions, the existence thereof and possibilities to travel between them – which were what he seemed most interested in.

“Oh, my pet sci-fi project,” she said with fake enthusiasm. “Well, we all have our own outlandish theories! I know there is absolutely nothing to speak for it, but it’s always tickled my imagination. What if there are alternate universes where the laws of physics are completely different? Maybe one with magic? Or something we’d call magic, at least. Clarke’s third law might apply – I mean, just look at what exists in our world! Wormholes and aliens, and aliens claiming to be Norse gods. Of course, I’d settle for just a regular other dimension, if needs be – it’s doesn’t have to be like Pete’s world in Doctor Who, or the Mirror!Verse in Star Trek, or any other sci fi theory. No magic required.”

She watched the references sail right over his head. He asked a few more questions, but she got the impression he wasn’t too interested. Her work was neither useful nor dangerous, so he let her continue with it. By the standards of physicists, it was actually not that weird. She made a point to always assume she was being watched when she was in the lab, though.

*

There were aliens in London as well. By the time the news had broken and they’d apparated to Greenwich, the fight was already over. Apparently it had lasted all of eight minutes. They were three minutes too late. They apparated away immediately, not wanting to be discovered by the black sedans who were arriving with flashing blue lights and emptying out of agents in suits and bullet proof vests.

They donated money to the rebuilding efforts. So far the aliens and terrorists seemed to hit major population centres only. The worst they had to bother with in Durham was floods. Somebody at work printed out pictures of Politicians in Wellies Looking at Floods and hung them on the notice board.

Hermione was no closer to figuring out dimensional travel.

*

There was a kerfuffle about an evil Nazi organisation having infiltrated a supposedly good (for a given value of the word) secret intelligence organisation, and in the process, Black Widow and Captain America released all the files SHIELD held. This was not something she’d expect from someone whose superhero costume (which was apparently a thing in this universe, go figure – when the Golden Trio had saved the world they’d just done it in ordinary wizard robes) was the American flag. Besides, her rather cynical experience had taught her that the more someone claimed to stand for truth, justice and freedom, the less likely it was to be true. But given how this Captain America had been declared a traitor to his government and then come back to show that his government was actually made up by fascists and eugenicists, so that was maybe a point in his favour. And then, as already noted, they went and dumped every single file collected by SHIELD online. Hermione had to give them props for bravery, even as she wondered what the consequences for all those named in them would be. Who wanted their dirty laundry aired in public?

SHIELD had a file on Hermione, it turned out, but she’d been dismissed as harmless. Her official research on dark matter identity was apparently not of any applied use in its current state, and her extra-curricular research wouldn’t lead anywhere and was, essentially, pie-in-the-sky thinking. It was the impression she intended to give off, but it still smarted. Hermione didn’t like being underestimated and dismissed. Ron and Harry were in there, but only by mention as her foster brothers. It seemed they hadn’t decided to dig deeper, which was a relief. She supposed even secret intelligence agencies who liked to collect data on everyone had to stop _somewhere_.

The files also mentioned Jane Foster’s research on gateways to other worlds, such as Asgard. The details on Asgardian “magic” made it clear it was nothing but advanced science, which was a disappointment. Hermione briefly debated whether or not to contact Dr Foster to see if she had any insights into their reality displacement problem, but in the end decided not to risk it. As far as current research held, other planets existed, but other Earth-like worlds with similar same histories and just a few differences (such as the presence of magic), her “pet sci-fi project”, did not.

Ron was unusually subdued for the better part of the summer.

*

Ron and Harry’s shop was doing well, they even had some regulars who came to them for all their repairs, and selling charming knick-knacks in a tourist spot was clearly a winning concept. The trio kept mainly to themselves, but they nodded at their student neighbours and Hermione occasionally joined her co-workers for Tuesday drinks at the New Inn opposite the library, even if she would still consider them more acquaintances and colleagues than friends. She thought they’d settled in quite well. And still, stacks of books and articles popped up on her desk with the dimensional travel parts highlighted.

*

The thing about life, Hermione found, was that it was very easy to get used to almost anything. When a giant robot army attacked Sokovia, and was stopped by the Avengers before Harry, Ron and Hermione could even work out if they’d be able to get there by apparating, or if the risk of splinching was too great, Hermione’s first thought was ‘again _, really_?’, and was promptly horrified at the callousness of her reaction. But there had been so many attacks in the last few years.

It was still very strange to see the world being a saved by a small group of plucky heroes that _didn’t include them_.

*

Of course, not everyone seemed so sanguine about dedicated teams of super-powered individuals determined to save the world, and wanted more oversight and governmental control. Hermione was quite sceptical – her own experiences in the wizarding world and those of SHIELD just a few years ago showed how easily governments could be taken over and used for evil. Even if the proposed agency was to be multinational and collaborative, Hermione still thought the potential for misuse was far too great.

The second matter was that by these proposed laws, she, Harry and Ron would be obliged to register and live out the rest of their lives under surveillance, which was _not happening under any circumstances_.

Naturally, people at work had Opinions. Academics being generally an independent-minded, left-leaning bunch, they had generally negative opinions about government overreach.

“I haven’t had the chance to get myself fully informed, but as far as I can tell, the Accords seem mainly about preventing vigilantism, which seems reasonable. Obviously they have some issues, but what piece of legislation doesn’t?” was one of the more conservative opinions, and as close as the physicists of Durham got to approval of the Accords.

“I don’t like the whole ‘indefinite imprisonment’ bit,” Hermione said cautiously, and there was a chorus of agreement. She was fairly certain they’d manage to fly well under the radar, by not using magic when any Muggles could see – she supposed she’d find out if someone showed up at their door or the shop to demand their registration with the new authorities, or that they submit to constant surveillance. But it made her feel unease, to know that if any of her friends suspected, and was of the informant inclination, well, it could be disastrous for them.

“I wonder what it’ll mean for the Avengers?” one of her fellow Research Fellows, who had enthusiastically become a fan of Hermione’s pet sci-fi project, asked. She liked Matt, from the little she knew of him.

“I suppose they’ll have to sign up to these new rules or retire,” Hermione said.

“Do you think it’ll mean anything for us, aside from the dangerous precedent it sets?” one of the PhD students asked.

“We live in Durham, I hardly think any so-called ‘enhanced individuals’ will pop up around here. And if they do, I’m sure there’ll be a hotline to call,” Hermione said.

One of the roundabouts in Stockton-on-Tees had been proclaiming the terrorism hotline number for the past three years, although Hermione doubted anyone but she had ever bothered to memorise it.

There was a joking discussion about the kinds of crises a superhero in Durham would have to deal with – they decided the superheroes would probably just spend their nights patrolling the riverbanks in case any drunk students fell in, given the complete lack of any lighting, railing, or other safety measures around the river, but sorting out the chaos on Church Street between lectures was another favourite suggestion, or keeping calm on Framwellgate Bridge when the Fighting Cocks pub closed.

Ron and Harry were there when she arrived home, Harry manning the shop, Ron in the back room working on repairs. She flipped the sign to ‘Closed’, breezed past the shelves of various objects, some stacked incredibly precariously, and dragged Harry with her into the back room.

“Right, it’s not great,” she said. “I think we’ve done enough to fly under the radar” (not even Ron blinked at the expression, his ten years in this magic-less world having taught him plenty new expressions) “but we need to make sure we’re extra careful. At first glance, it seems reasonable – enhanced humans need to register if they want to participate in any national or international conflict, and hopefully we are well done with our conflicts.”

They all knocked on the table twice, for luck.

“Obviously, we don’t hold with vigilantism,” she continued.

“Obviously,” Harry replied with a straight face, and Ron nodded.

Officially, they had paperwork with completely normal backgrounds (well, normal enough for boarding school kids in the foster system, at least). Officially, they had never lied to teachers, fought mountain trolls, snuck out in the middle of the night, smuggled illegally hatched animals, gone to midnight duels, cursed their own friends, gone to face down the most evil murderer in living memory on their own, brewed illegal potions in disused bathrooms, impersonated their classmates, gone into the _Forbidden_ Forest (more than once), gone down into extremely dangerous underground caverns, dragged professors down into extremely dangerous underground caverns, snuck out of school without permission to go to the nearest town, misused extremely restricted magical items, helped escaped criminals fly away on animals sentenced for execution, kept journalists in jars, founded illegal school clubs, broken into government buildings, used old textbooks to cheat in class, used magic on school fellows to get friends onto the sports team, lived for a year on the run whilst working to take down a corrupt government, or broken into any government offices or banks to steal dangerous magical artefacts. Not officially.

*

Neville’s Cross was a student area, but a reasonably quiet one, too far away from the city centre to attract the wildest party animals. The thing about student areas, she found, was that the neighbours changed from year to year, so there was no need or expectation to get to know them, which suited the three of them perfectly. It seemed someone else had the same idea, though. When the elderly couple with the five small yappy dogs a few doors up decided to sell, their new neighbour was a red-headed young woman with hints of central-eastern Europe in her American accent, who also kept mostly to herself and seemed very familiar, almost as if she’d been on TV saving the world a few times.

“I mean, I didn’t want to be the one to say it,” Harry said.

“So, what do we do?” Ron asked. “I mean, do we tell her we know who she is, or what? Wouldn’t that just spook her?”

“I guess we keep our distance, and only intervene if we have to,” Harry said.

“Keep our distance? Only intervene if we have to? Are you sure you’re feeling alright?” Ron asked in mock concern and tried to feel Harry’s forehead for a temperature, which of course sparked a minor wrestling match on the shop floor, which was crowded and narrow to navigate in the best of circumstances. Luckily, they all knew the _reparo_ charm for items that got broken.

*

Hermione had always been sceptical of the hype surrounding Captain America – she’d always be wary of anything that sounded jingoistic or as if it had hints of national or racial superiority beliefs. Besides, someone whose purpose was to protect specifically American values and way of life wasn’t really someone she felt she could relate to, being neither American nor convinced American values and way of life was superior to other ways of life.

So when she met Steve Rogers, she wasn’t quite prepared for him. She spotted them near Waterstones – Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanoff. They’d clearly tried to disguise themselves, and had it been anywhere else, they might have succeeded, but in Durham, people who weren’t students, pensioners or families tended to stick out. Especially when they were as handsome as Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanoff - they'd tried to cover it up, but there was only so much you could do with that strong jaw and open, honest face of his. It drew the eye, even with a beard - it only seemed to enhance his best fautures, rather than conceal them. Also, you didn’t get many American tourists in Durham outside of a few history buffs who came for the Castle and Cathedral. Harry and Ron’s shop was well placed to serve that crowd, so Hermione had over time figured out what they looked like. They did not look usually like American thirty-somethings in deliberately casual clothing. A casual observer wouldn’t have noticed them standing out, but Hermione had never been a casual observer.

She was prepared to let things lie and not get herself involved, until she saw the man in a suit following them. Men in suits were also something that stood out, but not overly so in Durham. Men in suits wearing shoes designed to run in and also hidden gun holsters in their belts stood out more – if not even British police officers carried guns, what were the chances that your average businessman would?

She pasted on a smile and went over to the American superheroes.

“You’re early! Lucky I saw you, or we might have missed each other!” as she bent in to give Natasha Romanoff a brief hug, she murmured. “You are aware you’re being followed, right?”

Natasha Romanoff was a spy, and an excellent one, who had long since learnt to roll with the punches.

“Darling! We thought we’d surprise you,” she said in a conversational tone returning the hug. “We’re on it, don’t worry. But thanks for your concern,” she added quietly.

“Oh, but you must let me help you,” Hermione said, and grabbed one of the Black Widow’s shopping bags and moving up the street. She linked her arm with Natasha Romanoff’s. Romanoff was tense, and Hermione was fairly sure she was currently the subject of a rather thorough threat analysis. It seemed Romanoff judged her either trustworthy, or not a threat, because she let Hermione drag her along easily enough, even if she was tense and ready to spring into action at a moment’s notice. Steve Rogers followed, slightly bemused.

Hermione dragged them both into the shop, barely stopping to wave at Ron before dragging them into the back room. Ron would know to disillusion the shop door and activate the anti-Muggle charms they’d prepared earlier for this sort of situation (not this _particular_ one, of course, but it never hurt to be prepared).

“Thanks for the assist,” Natasha Romanoff said, “but as I said, we had it covered. We were just leading him to a quiet place first.”

Hermione shrugged.

“There aren’t that many quiet places in Durham city centre in a Saturday. You might not have made it in time. This way was quick and easy – my brothers own the shop.”

“We don’t want to cause you any trouble,” said Steve Rogers.

“It’s trouble I chose to take on.”

“We appreciate it, but why are you helping us?”

“Because I too have been hunted for who I was. And just like you, I would be considered a criminal under the Sokovia Accords if anyone other than my brothers knew what we can do.”

Natasha’s eyes sharpened at that.

“You’re super-powered?”

“I guess you could call it that,” Hermione replied.

“It runs in your family?” Natasha asked.

“Not really, which used to be an issue, but now isn’t,” said Hermione, keeping her hand deliberately off her forearm where she still bore the marks Bellatrix Lestrange had once carved into her.

Steve looked confused.

“Surely if your brothers have it, then it runs in the family?”

At that moment, there was a crack behind her as Harry apparated into the shop’s back room. Both Steve and Natasha startled and went on alert. Hermione waved at them.

“It’s fine. It’s one of my brothers, Harry. You saw Ron out in the shop.”

They looked from Hermione to Harry, and brought up their mental image of what Ron looked like – they’d only briefly seen him, but that was enough to get a lasting impression of ginger and freckles, Hermione knew, that didn’t match either her Black or Harry’s South Asian complexions.

“Foster brothers,” she clarified. “Brothers of the heart, not of blood.”

“Hi, ‘Mione. Ron said you were having a spot of trouble?”

Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Nothing I couldn’t handle on my own. We’re basically just hiding out in the shop’s back room for a little while.”

“They’re going to know we went in here and come after the shop. Even if they didn’t see exactly which shop we went into, it’s not exactly a stretch to start searching all the shops in the area,” Steve pointed out.

“I think you might be underestimating us,” Hermione said.

“I take it you can do more than just teleport?” Natasha asked.

“Much more,” Harry grinned. “But we can start by teleporting you out of here.”

“It’s called apparating,” Hermione said, knowing that Harry had only called it teleporting so the Muggles would understand, but still unable to let the error stand.

Ron stuck his head in.

“If you’re hiding from the suit with a gun, he just gave up looking for you, I think.”

“Why didn’t they search the shop?” Steve asked. “Is that more of your super-powers?”

“We call it magic,” Hermione said. “But yes.”

“All the magic I’ve seen has had a scientific or technical explanation,” Natasha commented. “Asgardian ‘magic’, for instance.”

“I haven’t found one yet for what we can do, and trust me, I’ve tried. There’s no _logic_ to it,” Hermione said, voicing an old annoyance of hers. “This isn’t Asgardian ‘magic’, and yes, I do know the difference. It’s proper magic, in the ‘wave a wooden stick around and chant in pseudo-Latin’ sense of magic. I mean, what science or technology could possibly work on those premises?”

“Don’t look at me,” Steve said with a wry smile. “All technology seems like magic to me.”

She had a feeling he was underselling his intelligence, that he wanted to be underestimated as ‘dumb muscle’ and made a note to keep an eye on him. He was more cunning than he let on, and he might work out more than she wanted him to. Of course, Natasha had already probably mapped out their entire life stories by this point, if the rumours of the Black Widow were true. Hermione decided to just go with it. They could figure out what they wanted – it wasn’t like they were going to be selling them out to the authorities anytime soon.

*

They closed the shop early and apparated to Harry, Hermione and Ron’s house, and walked the few houses down to where Wanda lived.

“You knew who she was the whole time?” Steve asked.

“We suspected,” Hermione said.

“Well, thanks for keeping it a secret.”

“Thanks for saving the world all those times. Thanks for standing up for your friends. Thanks for speaking up against overreaching governments. Thanks for not calling the authorities on us when you found out we had magic,” Hermione said, a little waspishly. Really, as if she needed to be thanked for doing the right thing! And as if drawing the attention of the government wouldn’t be bad for Hermione and her brothers as well. Hermione was not an informant, thank you very much, and she did not like the implication that she might have been. He held up his hands in mock surrender.

“Sorry, no offense meant, and point taken.”

He smiled a bit tentatively at her, and she found herself returning the smile.

*

They ended up staying for dinner. Hermione got the sense that Wanda was a bit lonely, keeping to herself like this. At least she had a place to live that was quiet and out of the way. Although there was one thing she didn’t quite understand.

“Why would you settle in the UK to hide? It has the most CCTV per capita,” she pointed out.

“Well, it’s fairly easy to avoid that by getting Tesco Deliveries for your groceries, and not taking the bus.”

“Or going too close to the university building entrances. Or any banks. Or any public building, really,” Hermione said.

“Well, living under cover, I shouldn’t be going near banks or public buildings, anyway,” Wanda pointed out with a sad smile.

“Yeah, I know the feeling. When you’re hunted by the government, even if the government is evil, it’s a really bad idea to break into the Ministry,” Ron said.

“I thought it worked out fine, actually,” said Harry.

“This sounds like a story I want to hear,” said the Black Widow.

“Oh, not really,” said Hermione hurriedly. “Short moments of excitement during a very boring year, really.” She kicked Ron under the table and he in turn glared at her.

“Well, if you want to hear my take on it, you want to hide where there are no people. Like a forest. Great places, forests,” said Ron.

“I tried that during the war. Wasn’t very convenient. But I suppose your magic can solve all sorts of problems,” Steve said.

“Oh no, it has its downsides, even with magic. Lack of amenities, for one,” replied Hermione.

“Bugs,” said Harry.

“Bad food.”

“Mystery can diet, or did you try to hunt yourselves?” Steve asked with a wry smile that indicated he’d been there, done that.

“A bit of both, and stealing from various farms and shops we came across,” said Hermione. “Turns out, none of us were great at outdoor cooking. Everything was either over- or underdone. Besides, we had to copy the food to get enough, and copied food is never as good as the original, either in taste or nutrition.”

“Copying food would have been handy for us,” Steve commented. “The army gave us rations, but there was never quite enough. Besides, the only thing worse than heated army rations were army rations eaten cold. We couldn’t always risk a fire.”

“Yes, absolutely, that’s another thing I don’t miss. The feeling of never being able to let your guard down,” Hermione agreed animatedly, finding herself getting drawn into the collective whinge. It was more than ten years ago she’d lived in that forest, but some things clearly stuck with her.

“And the tiny tents, and no privacy,” Steve continued.

“Yes, and even with magical expansions, we were still living on top of each other, and small arguments would fester and grow because we couldn’t get away from one another because it wasn’t safe to be on your own.”

“It sounds like you have some shared life experiences,” Natasha said with a small smile. Steve glared at her a little bit, so there was probably more to that statement than it seemed on the surface. Hermione had a vague suspicion that maybe Natasha was playing matchmaker, which she realised she didn’t actually mind that much. She was right, they _did_ have shared life experience, more than just living in a forest during wartime, Steve had also lost his world and had to make himself at home in a new one. From what little she knew of his public persona and this one meeting, he seemed to be kind, honest, steady, trustworthy, cleverer than he let on, and most importantly of all, he got on with Harry and Ron. She could certainly do worse.

But of course, his life situation made a relationship not a good idea at the moment. They moved Wanda, now that her location might be compromised, and wouldn’t say to where. Hermione understood, but wished it didn’t have to be that way.

“You could join us?” Steve asked. “I can offer more camping in tents, moving between various safehouses, and some added running for your lives every now and again.”

“Thanks,” she said. “But I think those days are behind me.”

“Yeah, I figured as much. I guess this is goodbye, then.”

“I guess so. Until we meet again.”

She gave their phone number to all of them, and entreated them to call if they should ever need anything. She wished she could give them a DA galleon, but the protean charm was wand-activated. A phone number would have to do. The superheroes left, and Harry, Hermione and Ron settled back into their quiet routine in Durham.

She’d met Steve all of once. She hardly knew him, other than what was public information and some experiences he’d had in the field during the Second World War. It was silly to miss him.

She still did.

*

Hermione’s first PhD student graduated. One young budding scientist Hermione had sent into the world, full of promise, ideas about dark matter identity, and a healthy appreciation for sci-fi involving dimensional travel. Harry, Ron and Hermione marked the ten-year anniversary of their arrival in the new world. Ron joked that he could probably pass the physics A-level exam, just based on the abstracts of papers he had found for Hermione. He still kept looking for more. Harry gave up entirely two years ago.

*

Hermione had alerts set up for anything that might be of interest, which was why she got woken up one night to her phone informing her that there were flashing lights indicative of some battle going on all over Edinburgh Old Town. Wanda had been spotted at the scene, along with the red android known as Vision (who Hermione was fairly certain was also the handsome blond man who’d visited Wanda on a couple of occasions when she was living in Neville’s Cross) and a couple of unknown assailants, starting in Fleshmarket Close before heading up and down the Royal Mile – they must be using some kind of short-distance apparition, because they were going from place to place faster than was possible by running. The emergency services had attempted to respond, but given the location was currently ‘all over central Edinburgh’, their response was, understandably, quite confused.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione apparated to Waverly, a place they all knew well and was fairly central, in order to make their way to the battle from there, hoping they could reach it before it moved location again. It turned out that was unnecessary – no sooner had they arrived than Wanda and Vision came crashing through the glass roof of the train station.

Vision was hurt, and Hermione thought the best thing to do would be to grab him and get out of there. Wanda had the same idea, but his best idea was to sacrifice himself.

“They’re tracking me,” he said with a hint of despondency in his voice. “Please go.”

“You asked me to stay,” Wanda almost begged him. Hermione felt a little bit like she was intruding on a private moment, so she turned around to give them some privacy, just in time to see the assailants come crashing after them through the roof of Waverly station. She had a brief moment to think of the poor people who were going to have to clean up and repair this as the two sides stared at each other, each unwilling to engage. The tense moment was broken by the arrival of back-up.

Hermione had time to smile at Steve and say a quick “hi” that he returned, before the battle began in earnest.

The assailants turned out to be some kind of alien humanoids bent on killing Vision, specifically. She didn’t know him personally, or what he’d done to get these aliens after him, but if they were after him, then he was what needed to be protected.

She, Ron and Harry fell back into an easy rhythm that almost eleven years in the new world without duels and fighting for their lives had done nothing to erase. The flung hexes and curses, ducked and weaved. The hardest part was actually avoiding hitting any of the Avengers, who clearly liked to be in close quarters with their enemies. Duelling wasn’t designed for situations when your opponent was wrestling with your ally.

Between all of them, the battle was short.

“You said you’d call us if you needed help,” Hermione chided Wanda once the assailants had been beamed away and they’d helped Vision onto the jet. There seemed to be no question about Harry, Hermione and Ron following. She supposed they’d proven themselves adequately, by now.

“It seems you knew anyway,” Wanda replied.

Hermione, Harry and Ron were introduced to the two members of the team they hadn’t met before, Vision and Sam Wilson, the Falcon.

“Pleasure’s all mine,” Hermione said.

“Pretty sure that’s not true,” Steve said. “You keep saving our asses.”

“Well, I’m sure one day you’ll return the favour.”

“Hopefully I won’t ever need to.”

*

The jet took them ‘home’ to speak to some politicians, which Hermione could really have done without, and then onto Wakanda, as they might have the technological capacity to take the Mind Stone out of Vision’s head without killing him (Hermione had so many questions about science in their new world, and felt a little bit put out that she had focused all her efforts on trying to get back to their old world when there was so much here to discover).

The Avengers were arguing about what to do about Thanos and his hunt for the Infinity Stones, giving Harry, Ron and Hermione enough context to work out just why the aliens wanted Vision, specifically.

“You know, this feels a bit familiar,” Ron said. “There’s a powerful wizard hunting down powerful objects, and we didn’t know that they needed protection until the last one. Only last time, we were the ones hunting down the powerful objects and destroying them. Now we’re the ones protecting the Horcrux.”

“The Infinity Stones are nothing like Horcruxes,” Harry said. “Not even close. Horcruxes are vile, evil things.”

“Yeah, I know. Just seemed ironic, doesn’t it?”

“I don’t know what a Horcrux is,” said Bruce, “but if you’ve been in a similar situation before, maybe you have something to contribute.”

It was the invitation Harry had been waiting for. He’d clearly thought a lot about soul fragments in people, how to protect them and how to get them, and the Avengers listened avidly, coming with questions and objections when his plans relied too much on magic they didn’t have. Ron and Hermione exchanged glances. It was nice to see Harry in his element, coming alive, but it was also a bit disconcerting that he’d clearly missed it so much, and they hadn’t noticed. Hermione had a feeling that there was a danger that Harry would leave them behind for a new world-saving team. Unless, of course, they also joined this new world-saving team.

Vision was adamant that there was one way to save the world, which was to destroy the stone in his head. The others were equally adamant that there was no way they were letting him sacrifice himself, and that the Avengers didn’t trade in lives.

“This is why I didn’t tell you I was going to the Forest,” Harry muttered in aside to Ron and Hermione.

He smiled crookedly at them. Hermione didn’t share his sense of humour at the macabre – she’d learned to live with his morbid gallows humour, but she’d never find it funny, not after seeing how small and young Harry had looked cradled in Hagrid’s arms as they returned from the Forbidden Forest following Voldemort and his announcement that the Boy Who Lived had died.

Maybe if Harry hadn’t brought up the parallels, she might have been able to think rationally and accept that Vision had the right to decide what to do with his own life, and what cost he thought was acceptable to live with, maybe she’d find logic in his utilitarian solution to the trolley problem. But she wouldn’t accept it when Harry wanted to sacrifice himself – that’s why he hadn’t told her. So why would she accept when someone else’s loved one wanted to do the same?

“I agree with Steve and Wanda,” she said. “Killing our friends is the very last resort, not the first thing we try. There must be a different way.”

*

The different way turned out to be in Wakanda, a country that didn’t even exist in their world. Hermione was astounded at the technological capacity of this country, and a little bit upset and angry that they’d hid it for so long. It seemed like the wizarding world hiding from Muggles out of historical fear for what they’d do. The fear of the numbers on the other side, even though you had advanced technology/magic on yours – the problem the wizarding world had constantly grappled with, and the problem Hermione had tried so hard to overcome, to make the wizarding world open up. Although in her case, she figured the first step was to improve the wizarding world’s treatment of those who technically belonged but were seen as ‘lesser’, like Muggleborns and magical creatures, a problem she hadn’t seen evidence of Wakanda having (although as a visitor to Wakanda she obviously wasn’t party to all of its internal divisions, and it had taken years before she truly undertood just how heinously the wizards behaved sometimes without even thinking about it). And she supposed Wakanda had slightly more current and legitimate reasons to be afraid, given that the wizarding world’s fear of witch burnings stemmed from the 1600s.

The answer to their problems turned out to be the 18-year-old princess of Wakanda, a technical genius who clearly outsmarted Bruce Banner with his seven PhDs (privately Hermione thought that seven PhDs wasn’t actually that impressive – had he never thought of moving on? Doing a postdoc? Advancing in his science instead of starting over at the basic level in another field? Sometimes more wasn’t better – a PhD was similar to a driver’s license for research, showing that you were capable of doing it on your own, and while people could technically pass their driving test seven times, why would they?).

“Does she remind you of someone?” Ron whispered to Hermione with an elbow to her side when Shuri told Bruce that she was sure they’d done their best with a slightly patronising tone of voice. Hermione got what he meant, but Shuri was an African Princess who specialised in technological development, who was friendly and enthusiastic and welcomed strangers openly. At her age, Hermione had been a Black British Muggleborn bookworm know-it-all with few friends, on the run from people who wanted to kill her (although from what she’d managed to osmose, apparently Shuri had also spent a few days on the run last year from people who wanted to kill her family, too, so that part wasn’t actually that different). The similarities between herself and Shuri were superficial at best.

“Do you think you should stay here and do science with Shuri, ‘Mione?” Ron continued in a normal tone of voice.

“I’m a physicist, not a biologist,” Hermione said. “I know nothing about synthetic neurons, unless they happen to be made of dark matter, which I very much doubt.”

Bruce smiled uncomfortably at her.

“I’m afraid not. But that would be something to see.”

“I guess I’m on the field with the rest of you, then,” Hermione said.

“It’s an honour to have you. Let’s get planning,” Steve replied. He smiled at her, and she felt herself smile back instinctively, uncharacteristically of her. But there was just something about him that was inviting and made her want to be a better version of herself, and having his approval made her feel almost as if she'd aced an exam.

*

There was a tension that came before battle that Hermione’s body hadn’t forgotten, even though it was nearly 20 years since the Battle of Hogwarts. But standing below a shield, waiting for the enemy to attack brought back feelings, and from the way Ron and Harry were gripping her hands tightly, she suspected they felt the same. Hermione had put up many of the protections she’d seen Professor Flitwick do at Hogwarts over the capital city of Wakanda underneath their technological shield (even though she hadn’t remembered or learned all of them), and Harry and Ron had added those they could. Hopefully they should hold- Hermione just wasn’t sure for how long, or whether Shuri would have enough time to get the Stone out of Vision. She was already working hard, but it was complicated work, and she was just about the only person who could do it. Bruce, who could maybe help, had decided his value was more on the battlefield, to buy her the time she needed. They’d done just about all they could to prepare, now it was just to see whether they’d done enough.

Most enemies crashed on the technological shield and were trampled by those coming behind, but one or two started breaking through, and were now up to the magical shield. Still more waves were coming. Hermione didn’t know how long the shield would hold – it would take about 30 minutes of constant magical onslaught at least (giving the caster more than enough time to reapply it before it fell), unless someone knew Voldemort’s shield-piercing charm, but she didn’t know how long it would hold to a physical onslaught – as far as she knew, it had never been tested. Shuri was working as fast as she could, and she felt like she was getting somewhere, but the enemies were starting to encircle the barriers, and they didn’t have enough people to protect the citadel from all sides.

T’Challa made the call to open part of the wall. Hermione’s shield couldn’t be taken down in part, so she let it fall, and immediately Ron and Harry cast _protego totalum_ , which covered a smaller area, but would have to do as the enemies started pouring through.

The Battle for Wakanda was different from the Battle for Hogwarts, in that she was fighting alongside an entire country and its army, rather than schoolchildren and ragtag volunteers. But in the sense of chaos on the battlefield, it felt much the same. It was more of a physical fight, with many of both their enemies and allies preferring close quarters combat, and there were far fewer hexes and curse flying over her head. Instead there were bullets and the sounds of gunfire echoing loudly from both Colonel Rhodes and Steve’s friend Sergeant Barnes, and the rocket ships flying overhead. She was glad of that – it helped her keep track of where and when she was, so she didn’t start looking for people she’d lost, like Neville and the Weasleys, Lavender and Parvati, Dean and Seamus, members of the DA, the Order of the Phoenix and Professors – all those who had fought with her in her previous battle. She lost track of Ron and Harry quickly – every now and again she’d see a flash of light that she recognised as a blasting curse or disarming hex, or something similar, and know that at least one of them was still alive and fighting, but that was all.

She didn’t know how many of the lizard-like monsters she’d taken out. One of them jumped on her back. It had its arms around her throat – she couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t speak any spells, or manoeuvre her wand arm for the required movements to get herself loose. Panic rose as she struggled for breath. Was this how it ended? Was this how she’d die?

Then the arms loosened. She took a gasping breath as it fell off her. She turned around, and there was Steve raising his shield from the corpse of the beast.

He reached out a hand, and she took it and leveraged herself up.

“Thanks,” she said.

“Just repaying the favour,” he smiled. Then he was off again and Hermione shot off another blasting curse at an alien who was threatening Steve’s friend Bucky.

A massive vehicle of some kind erupted through the earth, and suddenly Wanda was there, blasting it back. Hermione aimed a _depulso_ at it at the same time she heard Ron shout _confringo_. There wasn’t much left of it, after that. They grinned a bit at each other.

“Just like old times, eh, ‘Mione?” Ron asked.

“I haven’t missed it a bit,” Hermione replied.

“Liar,” he said fondly.

They turned to Wanda.

“You need to go back to the chamber with Vision,” Hermione said. “If you don’t destroy the Stone the moment it’s out of him, all this will have been for nothing.”

“We’re losing,” Wanda said.

“You don’t know that.” Hermione grabbed Wanda and apparated her back. She took the opportunity to raise a large shield over Shuri, Vision, and Wanda.

“That should give you a bit more time.”

“I’m getting there,” Shuri said. “Just a few more minutes.”

“You don’t have them,” someone said behind her. Hermione spun around. The blue-haired alien from Waverly appeared in the chamber.

“I need back-up in Vision’s chamber,” Hermione said, hoping the communicators would pick it up. Immediately, Harry and Ron apparated in beside her and added their shields to hers. Steve and the other Avengers joined soon after, to hold off their attackers to Hermione, Ron and Harry could focus on their shields, so Shuri and Wanda could focus on the Stone.

Hermione wasn’t sure how long she stood there, holding up a shield with Ron and Harry, ignoring the sounds of battle immediately behind her. She had to trust that the Avengers would cover them, keep them safe. That Steve would have her back, like he’d had earlier. She knew he would.

After what seemed like an eternity, but was probably only a few minutes, Shuri reached out to pick up the Stone. Vision blinked. Wanda started directing a beam of red energy towards the Stone.

Which was when Thanos showed up.

Hermione didn’t really know how she had pictured him. A purple Giant was not it. He should have looked silly. Probably would have, if she’d just seen a picture, but in person he exuded an air of malevolence, of power, that she felt all instinct to laugh at him flee.

“You thought you could prevent me,” he said. “I am your destiny.”

Hermione had never believed in destiny, or predetermination, or anything of the sort. She’d just have to show him why.

The battle picked up in ferocity. There were over ten of them, and one of Thanos, yet they were struggling to keep him at bay, keep him from getting to Wanda and the Stone before she could destroy it. But destroy it she did. For a brief glorious moment, Hermione thought they’d done it. They’d destroyed the final Infinity Stone, and prevented Thanos from getting what he wanted. They’d won.

He gave Wanda a look of profound disappointment. He snapped his fingers. He plucked the Stone back out of thin air and placed it in his gauntlet.

They’d lost. Thanos had all the Stones.

With the Stones all in his grasp, Thanos seemed practically invincible. Nothing they did worked. Hermione tried to summon the gauntlet, but it remained firmly on his hand. All their spells bounced off him without effect. He phased anyone who came near him out of existence for the few seconds they would have impacted him. He picked Steve up like a ragdoll and shook him. He brushed all of them aside like they were nothing.

It was Thor who brought him down. Who managed to bury his axe in Thanos’ chest. As Thanos was slowly bleeding out, he said, with obvious effort:

“You should have gone for the… head.” He raised his hand to snap his fingers.

“ _Sectumsempra_ ,” Harry yelled.

The gauntlet fell to the ground with a thud. Steve smashed it with his shield, but nothing happened.

“ _Confringo_ ,” Hermione said, pointing her wand at the gauntlet. It remained stubbornly in one piece.

While Steve and Hermione were trying to destroy the gauntlet, Thor took Thanos’ advice. He yanked the axe out of his chest, and buried it in his head.

Just like that. It felt like there should have been more, like his body should have exploded or dissolved, but it was just there. Dead. Just like Voldemort’s had been. That was the thing about these great wizards, those who put themselves above everyone else. They died just like everyone else.

Of course it wasn’t over so simply. There was still the army there, and while many of them fled when they heard their Master was defeated, some stayed, out of loyalty, or fear, or anger, or hatred. They fought to the death. But the tide had turned, and eventually, there were no enemies left. They had won.

The clean-up took a long time. There were many bodies to bury.

“All this carnage, to save me,” Vision said. “It wasn’t worth it.”

They’d converged in the room where the final battle had happened, without coordinating it. Hermione supposed it was a natural instinct to return to locations of momentous importance. It was still in disarray, with chunks of the wall missing. Vision was sitting at one such chunk, looking out over Wakanda with his legs dangling over the ledge, Wanda beside him. The rest of them were stood a little bit back, not really wanting to intrude, but not wanting to leave them alone to wallow in their guilt, either.

“They would have come anyway,” Ron said. “Besides, didn’t he turn back time to bring the Stone back even after Wanda destroyed it? If we _had_ killed you, then he’d have done the same, and he’d still have gotten the Stone, except he’d have taken it straight from your head. At least this way you’re alive.”

This was a fairly unusual level of insight from Ron, but then, he had matured a great deal from who he was as a teenager. Loss had a way of doing that to people.

“You can’t go back and do it differently,” Natasha said. “You’re alive, and you have to live with that. All you can do is try to make up for the debt you feel.”

“How?” he asked, a bit forlornly. “Without the Stone, I’m much weaker than I was.”

“You’re still an artificial intelligence with a body made of vibranium,” Hermione said. “You can still do plenty.”

“We did it the way we thought best. Now we have to live with the consequences,” Steve added. “It was my call to bring the fight to Wakanda. It’s my guilt as much as yours.”

“There’s no place on Earth, or off it, we could have gone and avoided this,” said Harry. “I know the type.”

“He would have come for us no matter what we did,” Hermione agreed. “We defied him, he’d have wanted to punish us for that.”

“The cost might have been lower if we destroyed the Stone earlier,” Vision said, still clearly feeling guilty.

“You can’t think like that. There’s no way to know,” Natasha said.

“We did it the way where we won,” Harry said. “Try to focus on that.”

“And now we get to make the world a better place again,” Hermione said.

It felt like after they’d defeated Voldemort, only this time she was in her late thirties, not a teenager. She knew wizards lived longer than Muggles, but she still felt too old for this.

*

There were still some legal questions surrounding their actions in Wakanda, and Hermione, Harry and Ron had been visibly part of the battle and would be unable to return to their quiet lives again – unless they used glamours or something similar. Still, they stayed in Wakanda, for protection and to be useful.

Steve found her in the library one evening, poring over the books on offer.

“How are you doing?”

“Good,” she said. “How are you?”

“Holding on.”

They settled into a comfortable silence.

“So,” he said after some time. “Natasha has a theory.”

“Oh?” Hermione asked. “Do tell.”

“Well, you and your brothers are clearly veterans of a war. The thing is, the kind of war you seem to have experienced, the kind where you need to live on the run for a year, the kind that culminates in a giant battle, the kind between wizards – that kind of war leaves marks, no matter how much you try to cover it up. Buildings that are destroyed. People that disappear. The kind of thing that gets noticed by SHIELD. Only SHIELD doesn’t have any information at all on that kind of conflict. And, put together with your research…”

“You mean my pet sci-fi project?” Hermione asked. “Alternate worlds theories? Or do you mean my actual dark matter research?”

Steve gave her a wry smile.

“I’m about 70 years out of time. When I grew up, dark matter was a fringe theory – I’d never even heard of it until I woke up in the future. All your science is sci-fi to me. But well, what you call your sci-fi project, it does lead to certain conclusions about your origins.”

She leaned her head to the side, inviting him to finish the thought.

“Are you actually from another world?” he asked.

“It’s similar to this one,” Hermione confirmed. “Another version of Earth, with a similar world history and so on. But it’s like the world’s shifted a few degrees to the left. There are a few differences. Some people exist here that didn’t there, some people existed there but not here. The technology is maybe five to ten years behind this world, I think. Stark doesn’t exist there, which could be part of the explanation.”

“Don’t tell him that,” Steve advised with a crooked smiled. “His ego is big enough as it is.”

Stark was still missing, and there had been a fair bit of tension between him and Steve, from what Hermione had gathered. She supposed it boded well that he could joke like that about him, but she wasn’t sure how much of it was a friendly joke, and how much of it was seriously meant.

“And we don’t have superheroes,” Hermione continued. “Should I also not tell him that?”

“I think that’s fine, although he might be very curious about your world without superheroes. You have magic-users,” Steve said. “Like you and your brothers. Are you like superheroes?”

“Hardly. We call ourselves witches and wizards. There’s thousands of us. We have our own separate world. Might as well be a third world, for all the differences between it and the Muggle world – that’s what we call people without magic. I’m Muggleborn, so I’ve had to learn to live in two new worlds. It doesn’t get easier the second time.”

Hermione hadn’t opened up to someone like this, perhaps ever. Ron and Harry understood her without words by this point, but there were still things she didn’t say to them. Something about Steve made him very easy to talk to. Hermione supposed it was because he truly listened and tried to understand - he had a way of really showing that he was fully engaged with whomever he was speaking to, that they had his whole attention. Having that much attention focused on you might feel oppressive to some, but to Hermione, who was used to being overlooked because of her blood status, reduced to one single trait - her cleverness - it was validation. She felt seen when she talked to him.

“I don’t know if it’s at all the same, but I have some experience with joining a world that’s similar to the one you’re used to, but with a few surprising differences. It’s not even the ones people think about to warn you, like smartphones and so on,” he paused to give wry smile. “You think your world is technologically behind – we didn’t even have Biros when I grew up. I mainly used fountain pens.”

“The wizarding world uses _quills_ ,” Hermione told him. “And they wear _robes_.”

“I mean, fashion’s changed a bit since my day, but people these days don’t wear hats to go out. That one felt really odd at first. People don’t smoke in restaurants. My favourite team has moved to another city.”

“People were obsessed with a sport I’d never even heard of,” Hermione added. “With three different kinds of balls and the most convoluted points system imaginable. And they didn’t care about health and safety. People died in Quidditch, and they kept playing it, just the same!”

“Did you have magical healing?” Steve asked. “I know I take a lot more risks that I would have done before, because I can walk off a lot more.”

“I guess things don’t seem too bad when you can regrow bones overnight,” Hermione said.

“Well, I can’t do _that_ ,” he said. “Seems like magic comes out on top in this comparison.”

“In this particular one, I suppose,” Hermione said. “Although by all accounts it is extremely painful.”

They fell into another comfortable silence. This time Hermione broke it.

“The food was strange, as well. I mean, most of it was normal, but they drank pumpkin juice, not orange juice. And they had Chocolate frogs that actually hopped around, not Dairy Milk. It was still chocolate, but it wasn’t the same, you know?”

“There used to be a chocolate manufacturer in almost every neighbourhood, when I grew up,” Steve said. “Now it’s all Hershey’s and Mars.”

“American chocolate tastes like someone forgot to turn off the sugar tap,” was Hermione’s opinion, which may be slightly bold words for someone who liked Dairy Milk, but she didn’t think Steve would bring her up on it. He didn’t seem the type. If he even knew how Dairy Milk tasted. “It barely qualifies as chocolate.”

“You may have a point,” Steve said. “Although I think the stuff we ate as kids also barely counted as chocolate. It wasn’t as sweet, but I don’t want to know what else there was in it.”

“You’re saying that not everything was better in the past?” Hermione asked with a teasing smile.

“Not everything,” Steve replied seriously.

“Yeah. Like not everything was better in the Muggle world. Or in our old world.”

“I guess there’s good and bad in all worlds,” Steve said. He looked pensive. Maybe he was thinking of all he’d lost, as Hermione was. Or maybe he was thinking of all he’d gained.

His hand was resting near her on the little table between their comfy chairs. She tentatively reached out and took it. He looked at her with a little bit of surprise, but didn’t let go of her hand.

*

“You know, we could use people like you three on the team,” Steve told the three of them off-hand. She thought his deliberately casual tone hid how eager he was to have them. “Can’t offer much aside from a life on the run and occasional life-threatening danger, if you’re into that sort of thing.”

“Harry might be,” Ron said. Out of the three of them, Harry had missed being active the most – he was the one who’d been an Auror for almost ten years back home, the one who’d been desperate to join the Avengers during the previous world-shaking conflicts. He joined on the spot. Hermione waited a few days, but then eventually said yes. It was the right thing to do, and she’d be unable to continue her Fellowship at Durham, either way, given what had happened, and that she was now probably both a celebrity and an international criminal. She did speak to Ron before she did so, however, since the decision affected him the most. The decision meant she’d probably have fewer opportunities for the pet sci-fi project.

“We’ve been here eleven years, now,” she said, “and I’m no closer to finding a way home. I’ve no idea what Mulciber did. There’s no information on magic here, so I’m cut off from any source that would let me research the spell he did. I’ve been trying to figure it out using physics, but it’s nigh on impossible to work out – physics and magic are simply too different. I’m not giving up,” she said. “I’m just saying, we could maybe do more to be happy here than we have been. Make meaningful lives, not just to tide us over until we go home. Make a place for us. Make connections outside our trio.”

“Does this mean you’ve decided you fancy Steve, after all?” Ron asked.

“That has nothing to do with it,” said Hermione crossly, although she admitted privately, that yes, she had.

“Look, ‘Mione,” Ros said after a while. “I want to go home. I miss my family more than anything.” His voice broke a little. “But you’re my family too. And you’re the cleverest witch of your age. If you say we can’t get home, then I guess we can’t.”

He paused for a bit. Hermione said nothing, because she had the feeling that he had more to say.

“Reckon this place needs and odds and ends kind of shop?” was what he asked eventually. That wasn’t what she’d expected. She huffed out a laugh.

“I guess you’d have to ask King T’Challa about that,” she said, and grabbed his hand. “Ron, thank you.”

“Anything for you, Hermione,” Ron said sincerely. “You know I love you.”

There was a time when he wouldn’t have admitted it so easily. There was a time Hermione might have interpreted it romantically. There might even have been a time when he might have meant it romantically. But time had settled things between them. They were family.

“And I love you,” she said. That didn’t change, just because she was considering spreading her wings outside their co-dependent little bubble.

*

Steve wondered one day, if she wasn’t too busy, would she like to join him on a trip. He had something to show her that he thought she’d enjoy. Of course she agreed readily, and was taken down on a high-speed train under a mountain that reminded her uncomfortably of Gringotts. The destination was much more pleasant, however, as they stopped deep in the mountain and he handed her out of the train carriage, like a gentleman from a costume drama.

They stood together side by side watching carts go by on the complicated network of high-speed railways between the spiralling blue pillars and the high-tech mining outposts underneath the mountain. The vibranium gave everything a soft, blue glow.

“It’s beautiful,” she said. “Thank you for showing me this.”

“I thought you might like it.”

She turned to look at him.

“Did Natasha tell you to take me here?” she asked, quirking an eyebrow.

He looked a bit sheepish.

“Bucky, actually.”

She supposed it was good to know that his friends were also invested in making this budding relationship grow.

“I don’t imagine many people get to see a sight such as this in their lifetime,” Hermione mused.

“No, the Wakandans don’t let anyone into their mine. It’s a deeply held secret.”

“Then I feel honoured they trusted you enough to let you show me.”

“They trusted you too. I might have known them longer, but you did just save their country.”

“Only as much as you did. And they themselves.”

“Are you really going to argue when their gratitude lets you see a sight like this?”

She supposed that no, she wasn’t. She felt something brush against her hand, and looking down, saw that it was his hand. She wrapped her hand around his. They stood in silence and admired the sight a few moments. She liked that he was comfortable in silence, that he didn’t speak just because, but that when they spoke, it was because they had something to say. That the moments they shared were meaningful.

She glanced over and saw him looking at her fondly. He licked his lips. She closed the distance between their faces, and he leaned in to match. They met in the middle, and kissed, surrounded by the soft blue glow of the vibranium.

*

They went on several more dates, in and around the city, in between helping with the cleaning up efforts. The actual infrastructure was by and large undamaged, excepting the part of the citadel where the final showdown had been, but the forests and fields where the two armies had clashed were fairly destroyed. Hermione wished she knew more about land management and farming, so she could be of more use. She also wished she knew of any spells, but their lessons in Herbology had been remarkably lacking in magical tips to take care of non-magical plants. If they ever made it back, Hermione would add that to the long list of things that needed amending. Of course, there was no knowing what had happened in the wizarding world while she was gone. It reminded her a bit of Steve, and what he had gone through – of course, a lot of things reminded her of Steve at the moment, which may have to do with how much time they were spending together.

*

They still had the gauntlet with the Infinity Stones. Nobody was quite sure what to do with them. They all agreed they were too powerful to keep together.

A ship arrived from space carrying Stark and a sorcerer (not wizard) called Strange, as well as the rest of the Guardians – she’d met the talking racoon and the teenage tree, but they were joined by a woman with mandibles, a stone creature, two sisters, one blue and one green, and a human from Earth. She wasn’t sure the human wasn’t the strangest of them all.

“You know, the Stones have the possibility to alter reality,” Hermione said cautiously at one point. “I mean, we must all be thinking it, right?”

“They could maybe send us home,” Harry said. Just as they had all but decided to stay.

“I wouldn’t get your hopes up,” said the sorcerer Strange. “There’s no way to make sure you get to the right world. They could be used to send to you another version of this world, perhaps, or back or forwards in time in this world. But when you add your magic to the mix, things become too unstable.”

So that was that, then.

*

Stark had an army of lawyers, and he called several to Wakanda to clear their names – while Stark himself could argue he’d been nowhere near the fighting, and thus hadn’t broken the Accords, Rhodey, his closest friend, had essentially told the World Security Council where they could stick the Accords (and there was that little incident in New York that they’d conveniently forgotten to bring up, and were hoping that the World Security Council would also forget). Stark was the kind of person who truly went above and beyond for his friends, so army of lawyers it was. Hermione tried to be helpful to them – she fetched and carried legal texts, went over cases to see if she could find cases similar to theirs, and also made coffee. It reminded her a bit of the work they’d done for Buckbeak’s defence, even if that particular comparison wasn’t a very hopeful one. Buckbeak had survived, in the end, but not through _following_ the rules. But hopefully Stark’s lawyers would do better than three thirteen-year-olds (one dedicated and two… less so) and a groundskeeper. The Avengers, while the lawyers were doing their background research, were trying to convert public opinion in their favour.

They’d been assured they would always have a place in Wakanda, but the Avengers wanted more than that. They wanted the freedom to go where they pleased. They wanted to not be hunted as criminals. They wanted to go home, and Hermione understood that.

“You’d think they’d acknowledge that we literally saved the world,” Ron commented once. “Like, we broke the rules, but we _saved the world_.”

“The thing is, the threat wasn’t close to them. All the fighting was here, in Wakanda,” Steve said rather cynically.

“There was that scuffle in New York as well,” Stark interjected. “Ask me how I know.”

“ _My point is_ ,” Steve continued, “that it’s one thing to hear that Thanos will obliterate half of all life in the universe. It’s another to believe it in their bones.”

“I agree,” said King T’Challa. “To them, Wakanda doesn’t seem like an important country, and we have made it so deliberately, but that means there is little credit in saving it.”

“So what we need to do is convince the people that the Avengers are the Protectors of the Earth, not just of one nation.”

“Even when the Earth doesn’t deserve it?” Stark asked cynically.

“Especially then,” Hermione and Steve said, almost at the same time. They looked at each other and smiled at each other. Hermione wasn’t sure what she looked like, but she thought Steve looked fond, and amused, and maybe even a tiny bit starry-eyed. Harry and Ron, because they might be closer to 40 than 30, but they were still boys at heart and loved teasing her, mimed throwing up in tandem.

“We need to be an example,” Steve continued. “Keep going until we create the world we want to live in.”

She admired that about Steve, his vision, the way he didn’t let his cynicism get in the way of doing what was right. She was fairly certain her face was doing something sappy again, because Ron caught her eye and mimed throwing up again. She wished she’d mastered wandless or wordless casting better, because this was just the sort of situation that called for a Bat-bogey Hex. But Hermione was grown-up and professional and above such things. She’d have to get her revenge later, when he wasn’t expecting it.

“Hear, hear,” Harry said, and Hermione nodded. At least he was mature enough to only make fun of her new relationship once per serious meeting.

“So, I guess that means you’re with us, new people,” Stark said, with just a hint of a question in his tone.

“We are,” Harry answered for them, with a glance at Hermione and Ron.

Hermione nodded. She’d already made her mind up to try to make a new place for herself here, to accept Stark’s invitation to do science for him at Stark industries. There was a whole lot of cosmology to figure out in this world, too, not just related to alternate universes. In the past few weeks, she’d already made more connections with Shuri and the other scientists in Wakanda than she ever had with her co-workers in Durham, and she’d connected with the Avengers in the way you only really can with people who saved your life, and whose life you saved. Just like fighting a mountain troll in the girls’ bathroom, she thought that fighting an alien invasion was one of those experiences you couldn’t live through without becoming friends. So, yes, she’d stay, with her new friends and allies. And with Steve, who was both friend and ally, and so much more.


End file.
